A OneShot That Has No Name
by scarathemouche
Summary: Gaz&Scara randomness.


_Inspiration for this came during my Physics Exam. Please read&review._

**Disclaimer: All original characters, song and plot references belong to Ben Elton & Queen. As much as I would love to own the characters, I don't. **

_The OneShot That Has No Name._

"You're out of order Scaramouche!"

"Toilets are out of order Gaz, not people. Do I look like a toilet to you?" 

"Well…" 

"Don't even think about it."

They were arguing. Again. Everybody says opposites attract and all that, but sometimes it was hard to believe that those two were really each other's true loves. If Galileo Figaro, saviour of Planet Mall and Dreamer to the stars, so much as sniffed out of turn, his Bad Arsed Bitch Scaramouche was behind him, shoving a tissue down his throat. 

Their bickering, amusing as it was to watch, was so frequent it drove everyone in the Heartbreak insane. Well, slightly more insane than they were normally. However, it was rarely more than a five minute spat and soon afterwards they would be seen snuggling together on their squashy sofa or heading off to the bedroom for some quality 'Fandango Time.'

This argument, however, was lasting longer than usual.  
Galileo was holding his own for longer than anyone expected. Normally caving and admitting that whatever he had said/did/didn't do was wrong after five minutes, Galileo was rarely the winner of an argument. Actually, anyone other than Scaramouche was rarely the winner of an argument!

"For God's sake Scaramouche, this whole thing started because of a lousy guitar pick."

"A lousy guitar pick? Was that all it was to you, oh saviour of music? Thought you'd treat precious instruments of the past with more respect. Obviously not."

"N-no… I just…"

"What were using it as? A decorative ice-cube?"

One of Scaramouche's many guitar plectrums had somehow found its way into one of Pop's many pints of beer.

"No… I just borrowed it to…"

"To what exactly? What did you expect to do with it? You are rubbish at guitar anyway…"

"I am not."

Scaramouche snorted helpfully.

"Well, maybe a little… I just need practice. That's why I borrowed your pick."

"Borrowed. Without my permission."

"Yes. Without your permission."

Pop was commentating on the latest argument unhelpfully, jumping in with snippets of information about the situation and taking bets on who was expected to win. "A strong defence by Mr Figaro, keep going Fizza!"

"Shut up Pop."

"And the chick's getting flustered. Remember, you can change your bets at any time. Only a small fee of another pint for me."

"Don't make me come over there!"

"Ahem… CHICK!" Pop was slightly more than tipsy. The drink giving him Dutch courage, he bellowed at Scaramouche.

Scaramouche began to stalk over to the bar to give him a good smack in the face, but Galileo, also feeling braver than usual, decided that it would be amusing to step on the back of her boot, sending her sprawling to the ground.

The entire audience erupted into laughter but were soon silenced by a steely glare from Scaramouche, who was still sitting on the floor. Her hair was all over the place, her skirt further up than it probably should have been and her corset close to falling down. 

"Nice look, 'Mouche."

"Zip it, Figface. Help me up."

He held out his hand.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Galileo was still smirking slightly."

"Now, where were we?"

"You broke my microphone!"

"Because you ruined my guitar plectrum! And anyway, I didn't break it." 

"Yes, you did. Please fix it."

His cutest face made Scaramouche roll her eyes, "How about you fix something for a change?"

"Ok, show me what to do."

"Well, do you know what a Semi-Conductor is?"

"Erm… a guy that works part time on a train?"

"You are hopeless." She shook her head. "Anyway, it's not even broken."

"Yes it is." He sang a few notes as an example. Sure enough, they stopped after they reached the head of the microphone, no sound blaring from the speakers as it normally did.

"Geez, Gazza. When will you learn how to de-activate the Maximum Negativity Spectrum?"

"The what?"

She casually flicked a switch and the microphone squeaked back into existence, "Turn it on."


End file.
